


Friendship & Loss

by iam_spock (FanficbyLee)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/iam_spock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of both movies, Spock Prime comes to talk to Spock about life and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship & Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Explaining loss to someone who doesn't understand it, possibly his After!self explaining it to his Before!self. Like a letter to his past.

The ship was nearly empty, a skeleton crew was overseeing the final repairs to Enterprise after her battle with Vengeance. Ambassador Spock had made his way to Earth from New Vulcan as quickly as he was able, leaving others, including Sarek, to take over his responsibilities to the refugees that were rebuilding their civilization. Being on the bridge felt right, it was where he belonged, and he missed the days when he would have been the one sitting at the science station where his younger counterpart was now looking over the new panels and displays.

 

“Is it very different?” the younger Spock asked. “I realize that you have attempted not to give me information that could alter my destiny, but as you told me about Khan, I saw no reason not to inquire about Enterprise.” The last time Spock had been on the bridge was for an official tour with Starfleet Core of Engineers when they had determined whether or not Enterprise could be repaired—again. The damage from Nero had been substantial, but this had been far, far worse. Spock had been afraid that they would decommission her and then reassign her crew.

“It is larger.” The elderly Vulcan put his hand on the command chair. “It is certainly brighter. We were not so fond of white in my universe. You must be thankful for your inner eyelids.”

“Very.” Spock inclined his head, turning his chair from the computer to face the Ambassador. “I am curious why you wanted to see the ship. You have been on it before.”

 

 

This one was so literal. He remembered being like that—afraid to let any ounce of his human blood show, terrified that he would be thought of as less Vulcan than those around him. He knew that he scandalized the refugees because he would smile, and he had been known to chuckle at the jokes told by outworlders on occasion.

“I wanted to see you, Spock, but I believe that our conversation would be better in private. I do not think your captain would mind us using his ready room.” He took a moment to fuss with the cuffs of his sleeves while Spock shut down his station. The Ambassador never wore blue—not since Starfleet had stopped using the color—but seeing his counterpart wearing his duty tunic made him miss it.

“After you, Ambassador,” Spock answered, getting to his feet and walking along the top level of the circular bridge while the older Spock took the lower path to the side door that lead to the ready room.

“You have come a long way from our last meeting,” the Ambassador said as he took one of the pair of guest chairs before Jim’s empty desk. Spock took the other chair. Neither of them wanted to take the captain’s seat even though he was not on board.

 

 

“I am uncertain that can be counted as a meeting, as I was in shock to find out about your existence at the time.” He had been a mess. It wasn’t a scientific or medical term, but Spock recognized it as the truth. He had lost his mother. He had lost Vulcan. He had fought tooth and nail with Kirk for control of the ship, and then to be told that he and Kirk would be friends and needed each other had been a bit much.

“Yes, there was that. But do you understand now why I did not tell you?”

“You make my life sound like a test, Ambassador,” he bit the inside of his bottom lip. It was not visible from the outside. Spock knew because he had practiced the nervous gesture in front of a mirror as a child to ensure that he could do something when he was uncomfortable with a situation that did not betray his emotions. “Jim also questions me, asking if I understand when he does something. He asked me if I understood why he came back for me, and I had to tell him point blank that it was because he was my friend. He seemed to require me to state the obvious. Apparently I was in error to assume that he knew that I considered him as such.”

“Good, you need to be friends, Spock. You need to be friends with all of them. They are your crew and your family.” The Ambassador cast a small smile at Spock. “I did not see it for years. At one point I sought out the Kolinahr, so that I could forget them—forget Jim—give up my friends and family, because I thought it was the Vulcan thing to do.”

“I had once wished to embrace Kolinahr, but I do not wish to be deprived of my emotions.” Spock was not surprised that he could admit it openly, especially not to his older self. “My mother was proud of me, and I loved her. To cast out the human parts of me would be an insult to her memory, and I cannot do that. But there is a part of me that is reluctant to form more bonds. Jim’s death taught me an important lesson—one that I should have learned when the death of my mother—humans are fragile. Even if they do not die by violence, they do not live as long as we do.”

“It is painful. That is a future that I cannot protect you from.” Spock could see the pain in his older self’s dark eyes. He knew that this man might not have lost his world as he had, but he had lost all those he had loved with time. And by coming through the singularity he had essentially lost his version of Vulcan as well. “They will die, and you will go on.”

“Then why do you encourage me to bond with them—with him?” Frustration had never been an emotion that Spock was unfamiliar with, yet to have his older self tell him something that was not only illogical but would cause him pain was quite aggravating. It was no wonder why the Ambassador wished to speak to him in private.

 

 

“Because you cannot exist in a vacuum, Spock, you need contact.” He wasn’t shocked that his younger self was not hiding his emotions completely. The Ambassador could see the anger that was simmering beneath the surface. “But you must also know how to handle loss.”

 

 

Spock couldn’t sit still. The entire conversation was reminding him too much of one of the more frustrating arguments with Sarek. He paced to the window, gazing down at the blue planet that he now called home. “How can you think that I do not understand loss, Spock? I know you felt Vulcan die, just as I did. But I felt my mother’s death as well. You were further away than I was, and then I felt Jim die. I watched him curl into a ball and let go. You are wrong. I know what loss feels like.”

 

 

“Yes, you do. I am sorry. I did not mean to infer that you were incapable of understanding the emotion or the necessity of it.” The elder Vulcan watched as Spock strode to the window. “Loss is a part of life. It is a part of love. Being alone is inevitable.”

“You have loved the same people that I now love.” Spock did not turn to face the Ambassador. Their eyes met in the reflection of the transparent aluminum instead. “You watched them die over the years, leaving you alone. How do you bear it?”

“Seeing you, seeing them, helps. I did not mean to come to this time, nor to cause this time line to be created, but now I am glad I did, because I can watch them and you.” The Ambassador rose to his feet and walked over to place his hand on Spock’s shoulder to look at the Earth. “I was alone for decades, but I am not any longer. Watching your crew gives me hope, and that is enough to drive away the pain of loss.”


End file.
